Izzy
by SilverStarsFalling
Summary: Bella Marie Swan is dead. She died when he left and Izzy took her place. Izzy Hope Sampson is who I am now. And Izzy is who I'll stay.
1. Chapter 1

Bella Marie Swan is dead. She died when _he_ left and Izzy took her place. Izzy Hope Sampson is who I am now. And Izzy is who I'll stay.

My motorcycle who I always refer to as Harley growled furiously beneath me. Harley reminds me of a cheetah or, probably more suitable, a black panther. I stole her soon after I ran away from Charley's. He was a good dad but I just couldn't stay there. Too many memories.

That was the first step, leaving Forks, the first step to erasing _him_ from my mind. And it helped. Some.

The second step was changing my name. Not legally, I have no clue how to do that, but Izzy Sampson is who I introduce myself as now. I'm saving money to get identification and birth certificate that states my new name. You'd be surprised how much that stuff can cost.

The third step was changing my appearance. I've died my hair black with dark blue streaks that you really don't notice until I'm in the light and even then it's difficult to point them out. I also let my hair grow out; it's down past my butt now. And I actually wear make-up now, just enough to make myself look different. I wear some foundation which actually gives me skin a little color and a lot of mascara and eyeliner. I've bought eye contact lenses which make my eyes look mossy green. I don't go out in public without my scarlet red lipstick which I wear almost everyday and on the days I don't I wear some form of dark lip gloss to darken my baby pink lips. I don't dress nearly as modest as I did before but right now I'm in New Mexico and it if fucking hot here so if I wanna wear bootie shorts and a bra don't think I won't! Plus I have a tattoo now. I got one where my heart is if a red heart but the bottom left side is cracked a broken and there's red blood dripping from it.

The fourth step, find different distractions everyday. I work hard to not have any free time. Where ever I go the first thing I do is look for a job. Right now I'm bartending at this real shit-hole dump 10 minutes away but I don't mind at all. Also, I go home with a different guy almost every night once works over. They often try to pay me afterwards but I usually don't take it. Okay, I won't lie. I have taken the money on occasion but that's never my initial intention. During the day when I don't have to work I usually go find a library and read or go steal something from some store.

I pull into the poorly lade out parking lot of the crappy bar I work at. Tonight I'm wearing a denim mini skirt with a scarlet red spaghetti strap tank-top that matches my lipstick and shows off my tattoo and some comfy red flip-flops. I have my long hair pulled back in a messy pony tail.

I take a deep breath as I walk through the double doors of the bar. Baillie, my coworker, is already here and behind the bar fixing a margarita. She nods to me as I make my way to her.

"Hey, you're early." I say as I put my purse below the bar and lean against it. The bar is relatively empty other than a few men who're already drunk and will probably be getting even more hammered as the night progresses.

"Yeah I figured I'd get in some over-time what with Maggie leaving." Maggie is Baillie's ex girlfriend. Did I mention she's a lesbian? Well, now you know.

"So who're you holding up?" Baillie isn't good with rejection and I'm a little worried for her.

Baillie serves the man his margarita and brushed her glossy blonde hair behind her right ear.

"I'll live I guess." She sighs and I can't help feeling sorry for her and wishing I had Maggie's head on a silver platter.

"Listen, she doesn't deserve you." I put my arm around my only friend and keep speaking. "You're a great friend and an even better person in general. You'll find someone. Just give it time." It was hard saying the words but I got them out and I didn't even wince at the sudden pain I felt in my chest.

"Thanks Izzy. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Baillie turns to hug me and I return it. She smells like alcohol and coconut which is surprisingly appealing.

Baillie pulls back first and her hazel eyes still look sad.

One of the usual drunks orders a beer and I pull it out. As I'm taking the beer to his table I almost drop it tripping. I've gotten better with my clumsiness but I fear it may never go away completely. After I've put the beer on the table I turn to walk back behind the back the drunk grabs my skirt and I stop because if I keep moving he'll probably pull it down.

I turn my head to face him.

"The beers not the only thing I want." The man says and I first think of smacking him and walking away but I could use a distraction so I turn around completely and lean in real close to his pale face and giving him a perfect view of my boobs.

"You want me?" I ask and he nods eagerly. "Then come and get me." I turn and walk confidently to the parking lot. Baillie won't need my help for a little while.

Once outside I pin him against the wall, despite the fact that the man must be well over 7 feet tall, and attach his mouth with my own. He doesn't taste that bad and he might actually remember this in the morning. His incredibly hot hands have found their way up my shirt and are squeezing my breasts to the point it almost hurts causing a moan to escape me. His left hand suddenly leaves my shirt and goes down to my tiny skirt hitching it up and revealing my wet pussy. He breaks the kiss so he can see it and a grin plasters itself on his face. I spread my legs apart, still standing, and he moves his finger down there till he reaches my entrance and plunges deep into me.

It feels good but I want more.

I begin groping his hard erection through the thin fabric of his shorts and he starts to moan when I zip them down and push 'em to the floor. That's all he can take apparently because he pushes down his own boxers and picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and her turns us around so I'm against the wall now. He forces me on his hard cock and pile drives me into the wall nonstop. The second he enters me I'm filled with incredibly heat. His thrusts are so rough and quick it hurts but the pain mixes with pleasure and I climax quickly cumming all over his thick dick. He doesn't stop though and I'm practically screaming.

My cunt is so sore and wet! I'm positive they can hear us banging against the wall and our screams and moan inside. I wonder what Baillie thinks.

After what feels like an eternity the man's penis all but explodes inside of me. We aren't moving, just breathing heavily against the wall. His dick's still in me and it feels weird being there but not trying to break the wall down with its rapid movements.

"How was that babe?" The man asks his voice horse.

"You are one hell of a fuck that's for sure." I reply in all honesty.

The man laughs deeply which cause strange and livid things to happen to the sensitive way we're intertwined and he starts to pile drive me again. His cock feels huge inside of me and not at all gentle.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fucker! Fuck! " I'm screaming the words continuously at the top of my lungs as I get closer and closer to my climax.

The man is moaning loudly in my ear and his breath in my ear drives me crazy.

"I'm gonna cum!" I scream.

"Don't you dare Izzy! Damn it don't you fucking dare cum yet!" I'm surprised the man knows my name but can't really find it in me to care.

I try to hold it, honestly but it's hard when he's literally banging me into the wall like this!

I can't keep it in any longer and I cum all over him at the same time he cums too. His hot juices pour into me and I sigh.

Now the man lifts me up and puts me back down on the ground. My legs feel like jelly though and I almost fall over when he catches. The man sets me back on my feet and holds my elbow for a minute before I can stand by myself.

We get dressed in silence and don't say anything at all as we walk back into the bar. In the florescent lighting I really see the mans face and gasp. He is Quilete. Just like Jacob Black this man is definitely Quilete and definitely huge. I don't mean fat but the man's muscles are gigantic! No wonder it felt like he was trying to break my skull open during our lovely little sex fest.

I hide my shock as I walk behind the bar to join Baillie.

"So, how was it?" She asks smirking.

I knew they could hear us.

"Wonderful, thanks for asking." I smile pleasantly and she laughs a little.


	2. Chapter 2

chapter 2.

_A BIG thanks to werewolves-girl for being the first to review on this story and for giving me her/his support. Please people give me more reviews and I can't guarantee I will spell your name right but I will make an effort to type my thanks on here when I see the reviews. Again, THANK YOU WEREWOLVES-GIRL! :)_

The sex was a great distraction.

But nothing lasts forever.

It wasn't long after I went back inside that I slowly felt _his _ghost begin to slip in my mind. In my skin. In my bones and cells and muscles. In my heart.

His eyes stare at me from the shadows but when I look, they turn away not embarrassed just gentlemanly enough to remember that it's rude to stare. But it doesn't mean I don't feel his topaz eyes on me. It doesn't mean I don't feel his icy lips on my forehead or my hand.

I try to start conversation with Baillie but she's a recovering broken heart with a long past of dissapointment and grief. I can't force her to talk to me. She's too nice and innocent.

I make small-talk with some of the drunks but their all too hammered so I really can't tell what their saying. More men come in and I can't leave Baillie for another distraction again. Even though I have before. I bet she thinks I'm a slut. I do.

The bar is actually almost full now and I'm swamped with orders.

Wait a minute ... it shouldn't be _I'm_ it should be _we're_. I look around, where's Baillie?

It doesn't take long for me to notice the broken sobs under the radio blaring heavy metal coming from the disgusting bathroom that never gets cleaned because we're both to scared of what will jump out of the toilet or the drain in the sink.

I finish up the last five orders and leave my station. Our boss is too busy telling some old drunks about his time in the war were he lost his right eye.

"Baillie?" I ask, knocking on the door. I can already smell the never ending stench of the tiny restroom.

"Uh ... I-I'll be out in a minute." Baillie stutters back. He voice broke thee time. I can hear the tears and shorts breaths. Damn Maggie to the deepest most painful chamber of hell.

"Baillie, it's me Izzy." I try to keep my voice calming. "I'm gonna come in alright?" I don't wait for an answer.

I stench hits me like an SUV speeding down the highway and my feet have been glued down.

Baillie tries to hide her red face from me but I can still see the wet trails from her salty tears and her bleeding lip that she's still biting on to keep from crying in front of me. Why didn't I notice her come in here?

I put a reassuring hand on Baillie's way-too-thin shoulder and say, "It'll get better B. Promise."

Baillie closes her eyes.

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep Iz." Her voice is a deadly monotone that sends chills up my spine. She sounds like one of _them_.

Suddenly a sick green rises under the red on her cheeks. "Are you feeling okay?" I move to put my hand on her forehead check her temperature but I swipe it outta the way as she doubles over and pukes up what seems to be all the meals she ate this week. Thankfully most of it landed in the moldy toilet that scares people into _holding it in _till they get home.

I small scream came out riding the vomit too and the tall dark Arnold Schwarzenegger impressionist is instantly standing in the door way, his nose crumpled up from the smell just like mine and Baillie's.

"Oh my God!" Baillie wails and I hold her hair back. Tears start streaming down her multi-colored face. She clutches her stomach wrinkling her white blouse. She's shaking like a leaf in the fucking wind.

"Help!" Baillie's shreek is like forks and knives scrapping on a fine china plate.

"Someone call a doctor!" It's me who yells this time. We need doctor to either make Baillie feel better or at least put tape over her mouth. It's mean but it'll make us all feel so much better.

The extremely tall, extremely buff dude is the only one who steps forward. He flings Baillie over his broad shoulder before I can stop him and I doubt I even could stop make him flinch.

The man I recently fucked doesn't even look at me as he walks out the back door and into the foreboding night. And then he's running. I've only seen a few select people run faster than he did but boy could he run. It took a few heart beets before I realized that a strange big man just ran off with my friend. And I don't even know his name. This could be a problem.

"Hey! Get back here!" I race after him but my short legs are no match.

Since I left Charlies I've spent a lot of my time running or in the gym or doing crunches and push-ups in the motel room I'm staying at and I've definitely gotten stronger and more toned but compared to this guy it's like I'm still a weak baby that can't wipe the drool of it's chin.

It doesn't take long for me to realize that it's hopeless. There's no way I'll catch up to him.

My feet think faster than my brain and before I know it I'm riding Harley into the desert in search of the bastard that just stole my only friend.

As long as I can see him I won't lose him. I repeat these words in my head over and over to keep my breathing from going out of control.

The wind lashes out at my eyes and blinding tears form but I blink past them and don't drop my gaze off the man. I can see Baillie's long blond hair practically glowing in the moonlight, making it look white.

I look behind me and I can barely see the bar anymore. I hope I can find my way back after this.

Do I want to go back? I've been here for four months now and I can already feel _him_ dripping into me again. Like a poison. Like a drug.

"Stop!" I can't tell if I screamed that at my thoughts or at the man who still hasn't stopped sprinting.

Suddenly it's much harder to keep my eyes on the man. It's not just my tears that refuse to stop either or the angry wind. The man's form shakes, quivers almost. But just around the edges. His shoulders seem to mist a little and then arms and legs. Abruptly he launches Baillie away from him who is still writhing in pain. Baillie flies through the air and lands ten feet away from him.

My jaw drops and I almost lose control of Harley. The man has stopped running and his form keep quivering. It's not cold out. He's only wearing a pair of sweats though so who knows, maybe he's got a fever. I can't imagine a sick guy running like that though. Hell I can't imagine any guy running like that other than-

A razor blade cuts though my chest. Interrupting the thought.

I ride past the man without looking at him and go straight to Baillie.

Jumping off Harley I rush to her side. "Baillie?" I shake her shoulder but she's not seeing me. Her eyes are glazed over and she starring at the stars above. Her fists have forced her shirt into a wrinkled mess and there's some vomit on her chin in a little bit in her hair too. Tears stream down her twisted face as she moans and sobs rack her fragile shoulders.

"B, you okay? Baillie?" I'm scared. I can't lose her. She's my only friend. The only person who's convinced me to trust in the last three years. The only person I convinced myself to trust.

A rumbling noise startles me from behind. I turn and scream. My yell made Baillie groan.

A giant white ... thing is standing there. Right behind me. It's eyes are a strange mahogany brown. Familiar.

The white beast looks at me with intelligent eyes and jerks it's big head to the side.

A small, not-freaking-out voice in my head whispers, _"It's telling you to move aside."_

For once I decide to believe said small voice. But I can't move. I can't follow the beasts instructions. Not because I'm frozen with fear, although I wouldn't be surprised if I was, but because I can't leave Baillie here alone. I won't. I refuse. I will not comply.

I shake my head like a robot twice. Where'd that man go? He might not be a match to this monster but at least he'd have a fighting chance. Maybe.

The monster snarls and flashes me it's daggar like canines. I'll admit, I flinched.

"No." I whisper but I know the monster heard me loud and clear.

It's hackles are standing straight up. The thing is as big as a horse. Maybe bigger. It's paws look like the size of my head alone. I can almost make out well defined muscles under the white fur which looks so soft I wanna touch it.

Behind me, Baillie wails again. Her scream shatters the night like a metal baseball bat to an old window.

The monster and I lock eyes. I know the monster isn't afraid of me. But if it wanted to kill me it would've done it by now.

My wild guess is that for some weird, crazy reason the monster wants to kill Baillie. Probably because she is the weaker one right now. But that still doesn't make much sense. I'm refusing to leave, and it's not like it would be hard for this beast to kill me and Baillie. So, what's it waiting for? Why the hesitation?

"I'm not leaving without Baillie." I watch as the words sink in. The monster understands and believes me. Either that or I need to take some crazy pills and shut up. "Sorry, your just gonna have to go eat a snake or something." Or you could eat us but I'd rather you eat a snake. I hear they're good for you.

The monster doesn't so anything for awhile other than growl, snarl, and glare. Then, like a stature coming a alive, the beast turns and runs off. I watch it leave for awhile before I turn to my pained friend.

"Baillie it's fine. Okay, everything is going to be just fine. I promise you everything will be fine!" Baillie is shaking her head back and forth quickly. Her tears have stopped but she's started convulsing and her limbs are spasming out at random.

Her words are spoken in short haste gasps.

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep Iz." Her plump lips barely move to form the words.

I nod. "Yeah, guess I shouldn't but I am going to keep this one okay. B, don't worry."

I should've bought a cell phone last time I was in town. At least then I could've called the hospital. I won't be able to carry her back and I doubt she'll hold on if I try to drive us back to the bar on Harley. We are stuck. We are alone. And Baillie is going to die. Damn it.

"You should've moved." Suddenly we aren't alone. The man who brought us out here is back.

"What?" I stammer, confused and stressed. "Whatever, just help me get her back to town will you?" I beg.

"No, she's better out here." He's looking down at her. At the woman he probably killed for all I know.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I don't understand.

"Shut up!" He screams. I comply. Mostly outta shock but still my yelling isn't helping anyone. If Baillie dies, then I'll just kill him one way or another and then leave town. Probably head back up north or maybe Florida. Haven't been there in a while.

"Do you know what's happening to her?" I whisper but he hears anyway.

"Yes." He grunts.

"Will you tell me?" I ask, more like beg.

"Yes." His eyes never leave hers.

Okay, now he's pissing me off. "Will you tell me today? Or sometime this century?"

Finally, he looks at me. "She's been bitten by a damn _vampire_. I don't know why she's just now going through the Change but she is and when it's over she will want to drink all the humans blood." His voice is cold. Heartless. Why'd I sleep with him again?

Ice water's been poured into my veins. I feel it rushing under my skin as his words fold out in my mind. Baillie is going to become a v-v-v-va-va-vam-vam ... she's going to be one of _them_.

"How? How do you this?" The man looks surprised. He can tell from the look on my face that I'm not kidding around and I know that neither is he.

He seems to be trying to decide on whether he should tell me or not.

"Oh, what the hell." He murmurs this before continuing with his full strong voice. "I'm a werewolf. It's my job to kill bloodsuckers. I'm the horse-sized monster from before. You should've just moved."

He's a werewolf. He's the beast I just stood up to. This does take some time to sink in. But I figure, if v-v-v-vampires (ouch) are real why wouldn't werewolves be real too. Is anything just a legend anymore?

"The only reason I have for not tearing this bitch apart is she's different from what the stories say about when a human Changes into a bloodsucker." The man keeps speaking.

"She's not a bitch! You're a bitch for calling her that! Her name is Baillie June Ryde and she's a really good person mister ... what's your name?" I can feel warmth flooding my cheeks.

"I'm Paul Byrd. And your Izzy."

"Yeah, Izzy. Izzy Sampson." Baillie's started to moan again, I try stroking her hair to calm her. "How'd you know she was Changing?" I'm whispering again. I sound like a frightened 3rd grader.

"Because that's what I'm trained to do." Paul says, eyeing the space between my hand and Baillie's mouth.

"Were you born a werewolf or did you get bit?"

"Born."

"Oh."

"Yup."

There's something we have in common. Neither of us is any good at small talk. And I'm guessing he hates it just as much as me so I bite my lip and keep stoking my best friends long blond hair, turned white by the moonlight though.

"Ugh." Paul grunts and I finally notice his nose is all scrunched up despite the fact that we're miles away from the horid bar restroom.

"What's wrong?" I ask. He looks freaked out and his hands are shaking.

"She stinks like a fuckin' vamp already that's what's wrong!" Okay, now I'm completely confused.

I always thought Baillie smelt like her shampoo which she let me borrow one time. It's oranges plus the cough drops she's addicted to and the slight vomit breath she's got going on. I wouldn't say she stinks though. Men are so weird.

I lean in to smell her better and pretend not to notice Paul stiffen even more. Actually she doesn't smell that bad at all. I can still smell the oranges and cough drops, puke but there's some other scent on her that is starting to make me feel a little light headed. And that's when it hits me. She smells like _him_.

I gasp.

I close my eyes.

It's not razor blades anymore. Now it's giant shark teeth that bite me slowly. A slow death would be better than this.

I doesn't take long for me to realize that Baillie's stopped moaning and groaning. I open my eyes against the sudden pin needles that prick my eyelids and forehead.

Baillie looks beautiful.

Baillie looks stunning.

Baillie looks gorgeous.

Baillie looks magnificent.

Baillie looks _other-worldly_.

Baillie looks amazing.

Baillie looks perfect.

Baillie looks angelic.

Baillie flutters open her eyes, long lashes brushing her deathly pale skin. Her eyes are an unforgiving ... violet that fades into a deep starless night in the center. Her chest has stopped is subtle movement up and down. Her hands are no long balled up in tiny fists. Her lips are a perfect double-curve and are a pale pink. Her skin is flawless, like marble or ivory. Her hair is softer than before and has more volume. Hey waist was skinny before, now it's model material. Her legs seem longer and smoother, more toned too. Her hands look delicate but I know their not.

Paul seems utterly confused.

I notice something in the air then. Something strange. I sniff and realize its coming from Baillie. I sniff again. She doesn't smell like oranges or vomit or cough drops or like _him_ at all. She smells like ... books, the woods right after a summer rain, and ... cookies hot outta the oven. All my favorite smells minus _his_.

I look back at Paul. He sniffing the air too. I wonder what he smells.

There's something weird going on here. Paul said she was becoming a vampire (ouch) but her eyes are violet not crimson or even black or topaz.

I take a deep breath. Steady myself.

"Baillie?" My voice cuts through the silence.

Baillie's eyes flutter a tad bit more before she looks at me. I feel incredibly insignificant under her violet gaze.

She doesn't look thirsty or evil so I continue. "How do you feel?"

Baillie seems to actually consider this first. "Okay, I guess. Kinda hollow. You?" Her voice is like a tiny sliver bell- small and delicate.

I laugh a little at the weirdness of it all. "I'm ... fine. Thanks."

Baillie smiles and I notice a shiver run up Paul's spine.

"Paul? You okay?" I ask. Baillie turns to drop her violet stare on him. His shoulders slump like there's a weight pressing down on them.

"I'm ... um ... uh ... I-I ... I'll live." He stammers.

Baillie giggles, her silver bell voice making me feel all warm inside, a little at his face. He does look kinda funny.

Paul smiles. I'm not the only one who felt the warmth.

"Paul? What do you smell?" I ask. Does she smell that good to everyone?

"Uh ..." He looks embarrassed but he talks anyway, "mint tooth paste, the ocean during a storm, and freshly mowed grass ."

"Are those your favorite smells?" I ask him.

Paul just nods, taking deep breaths through his nose.

"I smell all my favorite smells too. I think it's coming from Baillie. And my favorite smell are different from yours so I guess she smells whatever the person smelling her likes the smell of most." It's confusing but I think I'm starting to get the gist of it.

"I do?" Baillie asks. Her violet eyes excited.

"Yeah I think so." I answer. Paul's just stares at her. She is awesome looking.

"Wow. So ... why do you two keep staring at me?" Baillie's eyes are switching from mine to Paul's like she's watching a tennis match but she doesn't understand the language the announce is speaking.

I don't know how to answer her question and I'm not sure is Paul heard it. He's a little lost in his own me-stare-at-gorgeous-lady-world.

_Ending the chapter here because it's 2:42 a.m. and I need some sleep. I'll try to write more tomorrow. Again thanks werewolves-girl for giving me my first review. Your wish is my command and here it is! I updated! :) Please R & R!_

_Thanks to brooklynsam3, Nutz for Kellan Lutz, , Kathy Hiester, and miss-glitz for their reviews. People, follow their example and tell me what you think please. :)_

_Also I realize that the chapters are all jacked up I really don't know how to fix them but believe me i've been trying. Please be patient because I'm still kinda new to all this. Thanks. _


	3. Chapter 3

chapter 3.

"Izzy?" Baillie is staring me down now. I want to look away but I can't move. Can't think. "Why do you keep staring at me?"

The words are out of my mouth before I realize it. "Because you're beautiful, gorgeous, amazing, lovely, and stunning, because you were bitten by a vampire so you should be trying to drink my blood but your not, because your eyes are violet, because you smell like books, the woods right after a summer rain, and cookies hot outta the oven, because you smell like all of Paul's favorite smells too, because your Change only lasted maybe 30 minutes I don't know for sure!" I've never spoken so fast before in my whole entire life. But the scary part is, I didn't mean to say all that. I couldn't stop the words from spewing out of my mouth!

Baillie looks confused and excited. "My eyes are violet? Really? No way, my eyes are hazel! And what do you mean I was bitten by a vampire? What 'Change'?"

"I have a mirror in my purse, I can go get it and come back." I say standing up. Baillie moves so fast she's hardly even a blur. Instantly, she is standing in front of me. I blink in shock.

"I'll go with you, we need to get back to work before Johnny gets pissed and fires us." Baillie loves her job as a bartender. I still can't figure out why.

Then, Paul is standing towering over the both of us. "I don't think that's a good idea. We need to get outta here."

Baillie looks at him now and his broad shoulders slump again. "I need to get back. I have rent that's gotta be paid and Johnny has already been mad at me for being late the past couple nights!"

Paul looks stunned, like he just got zapped or pushed against an electric fence.

I put a calming hand on Baillie's shoulder, noticing how it feels much stronger than before when she was so frail and thin. "B, I don't think you should go back there. I think we need to just go back to my place and talk about what's going on here."

Baillie looks at me now. Her violet eyes are glowing. My shoulders slump and all the breath rushes out of me.

when she was so frail and thin. "B, I don't think you should go back there. I think we need to just go back to my place and talk about what's going on here."

Baillie looks at me now. Her violet eyes are glowing. My shoulders slump and all the breath rushes out of me.

We stare at each other for awhile. Her glowing violet eyes are slowly losing their light and then her eyes are still piecing but at least they aren't shining.

Baillie sighs and gives in. "Iz, I can't lose this job but I trust you." That's one of the ways B got my friendship, her never ending trust and kindness that she gave out to every one she met.

I swallow and try to speak around the sudden rock in my throat. "Okay, well um ... lets go back to my motel room then. There, B, you can take a shower or something to help you relax and clean you up. Maybe on the way there we can stop for pizza or something if your hungry."

Paul seems to cheer up at the idea of eating.

"I could eat thanks. Don't you need your purse though?" Baillie asks, her silver-bell voice ringing through the soundless night air.

"I'll get it." Paul volunteers. "It's under the bar right?" I nod.

"Wait! You don't know where I live."

Paul rolls his eyes. "'S fine. I'll just follow yawl's scent. No problem." And then he's off running. My eyes can't see him very well but I think I saw him take his shorts off. Weird...

Baillie is giggling next to me. "Whats so funny?" I ask grinning at the sound of her laugh.

"He took his shorts," She pauses to laugh some more,"off while he was running."

I thought I saw that. I look back to where he ran off but I can't see him anymore.

"Baillie, can you still see him?" I ask my friend.

"Yeah crystal clear. Ya know whats weird, I can see everything. I mean even though its night, it looks like day. I mean, no that sounds lame." Baillie struggles for the words. "It's like ... look, I can see in the dark and I can still see Paul even though I know he's way out there running- HOLY SHIT!" B suddenly screams the last two words. Her eyes are shining again, illuminating her face even more now.

"What?" I yell grabbing her shoulders making sure she's still intact.

"He just ... Paul just ... turned into a ... thing! I mean a ... bear or wolf or horse or something!"

"Oh, B ... Paul is a werewolf." Might as well just say it.

"Oh my goodness! He's a ... but that's all fictional!" Baillie's eyes tell me she know I'm telling the truth but her mind refuses to believe it.

"Yea that's what I thought too." I laugh a little to lighten the mood. "Listen, I'll explain everything once we get to my place."

"Ya promise?" Baillie asks.

"Of course." I tell her.

Baillie takes a deep, calming breath and her eyes start to dim back to their normal, well not really normal, violet beauty.

Paul comes back pretty quick, his shorts on and in his human form. He's not even breathing heavy but I know he must have just ran at least 40 miles.

"Here" he hands me my fake leather purse and I pull out the tiny mirror I kept in it.

"Don't freak," I say to Baillie as I hand the small mirror to her.

She doesn't freak but her eyes go wide and her jaw drops. "Wow, I'm ... um ... different." The hand not holding the mirror goes up to touch her cheek delicately and brushes her long eye lashes.

"You're beautiful." Paul murmurs and Baillie blushes a light pink. Her face didn't go red as a tomato when she got embarrassed like me, she just had a light pink flush on her cheeks.

"You're a werewolf?" Baillie asks and to my surprise she doesn't look scared.

"Yup." Is all Paul answers with. "I thought you two were gonna go when I left?"

"We got side-tracked." I say laughing as Baillie's cheeks turn pink again and she giggles.

"Um okay, so I guess you two will take Izzy's bike and I'll just run." Paul says, his brows furrowing.

We laugh a little more as Baille and I get on Harley. Paul waits for me to turn Harley around and start driving to move but then I see a giant white werewolf keeping pace beside us.

We race home but when we get too close to the road Paul dissapears. I look around for him but he's no where to be seen.

After stopping for pizza, I make B wait by Harley in the parking lot, we go home. Baillie holding the pizza but somehow she manages to not fall off.

The lame motel I currently reside in is ... well, lame. Theirs only three other people here too but I don't know them.

My room is tiny and shabby but it's better than living in an alley way, that was in Chicago. I don't recoment it.

Baillie and I are just entering my room when Paul comes in too. I don't ask how he got here.

Baillie opens the box of sausage pizza, her favorite, and digs in. I grab myself a slice and Paul takes two but I have a feeling he'll be taking more later. Big guy gotta eat.

"You promised you'd explain." Baillie sits down on my bed and takes a bite of her pizza, looking at me with her eyebrows raised curiously.

"That I did, okay, so," how do I explain this? ...,"vampires are real. Just like werewolves. And you were, well we believe that you were bitten by a vampire. But, you didn't turn into a vampire and for some crazy reason you didn't go through the change immediatly afterwards."

B looks at me for a second but finally nods and says, "I trust you Iz, if you say vampires and werewolves are real then I know they are." She takes another bite of her pizza chews then swallows. "So, you have no clue why I am the way I am?"

"No clue." I say. Paul nods with his mouth is full of pizza. He grabs two more pieces.

"Um ... have you been bitten by anyone lately?" I feel like such a dork saying this.

"Yeah" Baillie says, "I was walking home and this guy came outta no where and bit me but then he just ran off. I don't know why he ran like that but he did and I was like really freaked out. Eventually I snapped out of it and walked the rest of the way home. This was maybe three days ago I think."

Wow.

"Okay then. So, uh I guess that's everything. Um, B, you can use the shower if you want." I tell her nibbling on the cust of my eaten pizza.

"No, that's fine. It's your place you take a shower than I will." Baillie insists.

I shrug. "Well, okay." I grab one of my towels and take a quick shower. The water helps my muscles relax but not by much.

I don't have a blow drier so I just run a comb through my long hair and remind myself that it's almost time to dye it again, my brown roots are starting to show but it isn't all that noticable.

When I walk out only Baillie is here.

"Where's Paul?" I ask noticing the empty pizza box.

Baillie looks kinda dazed so I snap my fingers in front of her face and she finally looks at me. "What?"

"Where is Paul?" I enunciate each word slowly like I was talking to a mentally retarded child.

"Oh! He went to patrol the area for any vampires." She says matter-of-factly, she looks like she has something to say so I keep looking at her. "I think I like him!" Baillie blurts out at last.

I roll my eyes. "Okay so?"

"So?" Baillie looks at me incredulously. "What do you mean 'so'? I'm a lesbian! He's a guy! Since when do lesbians fall for guys?" She was standing now, her eyes crushing and shining like violet flashlights.

"Oh, by 'like' you meant ..." I slowly realize what she's trying to say.

B nods slowly.

"Well, are ya sure?" I ask.

"I think so. I just can't stop thinking about him and how magical he is and how his voice is so calming so deep and his muscles and... I think I really do _like_ this guy Izzy!" Baillie is practically screaming.

"Okay okay so you like him. Then you should be with him. He seems to like you too." I say encouragingly.

Baillie looks at me and my breath rushes out again at the odd weight of her stare.

"Your right." She says and then embraces me in an incredibly fast hug. Her arms are like tiny vices! "Hey, do you have any tampons or something I could use. I was supposed to start today."

"Sure." I walk into the bathroom to retrieve my box of lady products. "Actually I'm supposed to start in just a few days."

"It sucks." B says.

"Yeah it does." I agree.

_Hey everybody thanks so much for the reviews, the supporting ones **and** the rude ones. I will try to get chapter 4 up here soon. I know the ending to this chapter isn't that great but it all leads up to something. I promise. :)  
Please give me reviews! And don't forget to rate my story! Thanks so much! _


	4. Chapter 4

_I do not own the Twilight Saga. All that it Stephanie Meyer.  
Rate & Review!_

chapter 4.

It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be. **It can't be!**

I'm repeating these words continuously, silently, like a mantra. Because it just can't be. It just can't fucking be!

I check my watch for the hundredth time, it's been five minutes.

Time to prove it to yourself Izzy, it can't be.

I lean over the bathroom counter and scowl at the small pregnancy test stick and glaring right back at is the most horris, frightening sign I've ever seen.

I stumble backwards till I feel the toilet against the back of my legs and sit, luckily the seat was down.

It's positive.

**

* * *

**

...9 weeks later...

I can't hide it any longer. I've got to tell them ... I'm pregnant.

As I wait for Baillie to finish her shower, steam floats out of the bathroom, I sit down in the tiny kitchen we had in our small apartment. The apartment was big enough just for us, Baillie and Paul got their own room and I had my own.

Paul had told Baillie and me about Imprinting two weeks after Baillie Changed. Three seconds after that he told Baillie that he had Imprinted on her. I don't think I've ever seen Baillie happier than these past few months. I don't want to ruin everything by telling her that the love of her life knocked me up outside a bar!

I have to think about this though ... it may not be Paul's. If it is his then this would be the 12th week. I don't know a thing about being pregnant; it's never exactly been a big factor in my life.

I slowly lift up my baggy tee-shirt over my usually flat stomach and it's bigger. I don't know what to say, my usually flat belly ... isn't flat. It's not huge but ... I don't know.

Seeing my stomach all ... different ... made something weird happen in my brain. A small part way in the back was whispering the strangest things.

This small part was going over baby names, nursery decorations, tuition, etc. It rambled on and on incessantly about what the baby would look like, whether it would be more like me or more like Paul, how much Charlie would the baby have in it, will it be a girl or boy, what will it like, what will it hate, ... it was never ending and I don't know how to shut it off. A part of me doesn't want to though. It's nice having some sort of enthusiasm about this insane catastrophe!

I hear the water shut off and Baillie's footsteps as she walk from the shower to her bedroom to get dressed.

Don't have much time, better prepare yourself Izzy, I tell myself. I can't chicken outta this. I won't be able to hide under al these clothes forever. And I think they'll notice when the baby _does_ come.

Baillie is humming to herself and the sound is incredibly calming. She's walking to the kitchen, it isn't a far walk in our tiny apartment. Entering she sees me.

"Hey Iz, Paul's not back yet?" She asked, looking around. Paul's been running every day, "forming a perimeter around us" as he puts it.

"Nah, it'll be a while I think." He only left maybe an hour ago, his patrolling usually last about 4-5 hours. The man is very protective of Baillie and I like to think that we've become friends.

Baillie's face instantly drops, she hates being away from him.

I've gotten used to how beautiful she's become, not that she wasn't pretty before.

"Izzy?" Baillie is suddenly staring at me, she turned around so fast I didn't see it, "Is something wrong?" Her violet eyes are worried. That's another thing about Baillie that I've noticed, she's become much more attuned to her surroundings and can pretty much always tell when something is bothering someone.

I open my mouth but close it again, my throat is dry I have to swallow but it still hurts.

I force myself not to meet Baillie's gaze because I know that once I do I'll just blurt out everything, another crazy thing we've found out about her if you look in her eyes and she asks you something it's impossible not to tell the truth.

This isn't something I want to blurt out though so I stare at the floor, keeping my face down. It's weird, it's like her eyes are magnets pulling my face up and trying to make my eyes meet hers but I work hard to not comply. I even have to squeeze my eyes shut.

"I'm pregnant." I whisper the words but I know she heard them.

Everything is quiet for what feels like an eternity.

And finally I have to look up, to check her reaction before my heart explodes from the suspense.

Baillie looks like a Greek statue of Aphrodite but right now she's scaring the shit outta me; her alarming violet eyes are shining brighter than I've ever seen them, a delicate pink is heating up her cheek bones, her lips are frozen in a grimace and her brow is furrowed. I try not to notice how her hard hands are balled up in tiny fists full of power.

It feels like another lifetime has passed by the time Baillie moves.

"Izzy ... are you absolutely sure?" I'm surprised by the amount of pain in her voice.

I nod jerkily. "I took five tests. Each one came back positive." I can only murmur the words around the rock in my throat.

"Does Paul know?"

"No, I wanted to tell you first." Tears spring to my eyes and before I can wipe them away they're streaming down my burning cheeks. "I'm so sorry." It's only a whisper.

The statue comes to life and kneels beside where I'm sitting, placing a controlled, gentle hand on my back and using the other hand to stroke my hair which has grown even longer.

"Izzy, I'm not mad at you. You had no idea that Paul would Imprint on me. I'm sorry you have to go through this. It isn't fair." I'm again surprissed by Baillie, does she realize how understanding she's being right now? Another reason why I think of Baillie as my sister.

_I'm sorry for such a short chapter but I wanted to end it here so deal with it. Yeah, this is a lot of drama and more is to come. Please remember to review people, I wanna know what you all think about it! Please!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry it's so short.  
Please check out my Poll on my profile to help determine what Izzy will name her baby! PLEASE!  
Thanks for the reviews everyone and please keep it up I want to know what you all think about how the story's doing. _

chapter 5.

I feel as though I'm dieing inside. With each slow, painful lurch of the clock hand, my heart speeds up. This can't be healthy for a pregnant woman.

I force my eyes away from the spiteful clock to watch Baillie move around or small apartment. Right now she's vacuuming the carpet; I'm pretty sure she stole the vacuum from one of our neighbors, even though it looks clean. Five minutes ago she was straightening her naturally wavy hair with a hot iron I'm also pretty sure she stole from a neighbor but gave up with a sigh when she could only make it _less _wavy. And a few minutes before that she was dusting everything in the apartment. I know what she's doing; she's keeping herself busy so she doesn't rip my head off like I know she wants to.

Baillie hasn't met my wary gaze for the last 4 hours, Paul won't be home for at least another 30 minutes, and the more she tries not to look at me the more I feel distressed about her attitude. She has not screamed, yelled, or even shown me the expression of rage. And there's just no way she isn't mad. She should be more than mad, she should be beyond pissed! And if she is, then she is doing a good job at hiding it. But I know her well enough to know that she is most certainly not happy about this entire situation.

I wish I could change this. I wish I could go back in time to when Paul made that first _move _at me and slap him like any sensible woman would do. But not me. I lost all my senses a long time ago...

_-flashback-_

_"Isabella." He pronounced my full name carefully, then playfully ruffled my hair with his free hand. A shock ran through my body at his casual touch. "Bella, I couldn't live with myself if I ever hurt you. You don't know how it's tortured me." He looked down, ashamed again. _

_-end of flashback- _

The memory attached me, leaving my lungs empty and my arms hugging my torso tightly- a position and feeling I am so used to know. The flashbacks used to follow me everywhere; my own mind was my worst enemy because it wouldn't let me forget. But eventually, sometime after my two months in Michigan I believe, they finally started to wane.

Taking deep breaths, or trying to at least, I shake my head quickly in a vain attempt to remove the feeling of his icy hands, his hypnotizing breath.

I look up, Baillie hasn't even noticed. Or she just refuses to acknowledge my sudden behavior, I'm pretty positive she noticed.

I shut my eyes against the sudden tumult of emotions blazing inside me.

An abrupt wave of crippling sadness, fear, and despair crashes down on me. Baillie is going to leave me. Just like my last best friend...

_-flashback-_

_"Hey, Edward!" Alice called enthusiastically. She ran down the stairs, a streak of black hair and white skin, coming to a sudden and graceful stop in front of me. Carlisle and Esme both shot her warning glances at her, but I liked it. It was natural - for her anyway._

_"Hi, Bella!" Alice said, and she bounced forward to kiss my cheek. If Carlisle and Esme looked cautious before, they now looked staggered. There was shock in my eyes, too, but I was also very pleased that she seemed to approve of me so entirely. I was startled to feel Edward stiffen at my side. I glanced at his face, but his expression was unreadable._

_"You do smell nice, I never noticed before," she commented, to my extreme embarrassment. _

_-end of flashback-_

When I opened my eyes I was on my knees, doubled over, on the ugly tiled floor of our kitchen. My black hair formed a glossy curtain around my face. My arms were like my own personal snaked, wrapped around my chest, making it harder for me to breath. I think my lungs dropped off the Earth along with my happiness.

I looked up, Baillie was actually looking in my direction but still not at me. Her violet, reproachful eyes stared at the chair I had apparently fallen from. But not me.

I don't know if the pregnancy hormones are really starting to kick in right now but suddenly _I _was furious.

"Hey!" I tried to yell but without my lungs it came out more as a rough, squeak. But still I know she heard me. She hears everything.

I tried again because she still didn't look at me, she just went back to reading some magazine that I highly doubted she was the least bit interested in. "Hey!" My voice had more power in it this time but Baillie remained unaffected.

My face turned red.

I stood up, with great effort, and screamed, "Look at me!" with all my strength.

I saw Baillie swallow and her hands gripped the magazine roughly wrinkling the thin paper. Her blond hair formed a shiny curtain between us but I was sure her eyes were shining like violet flashlights.

And then, like a miracle/tragedy I saw him. His face, his hair, his eyes, his body, his entire form stood not five feet away from me!

_"Bella,"_ The beautiful allusion spoke, I was surprised to hear my old name, "_Be careful, this is dangerous. Baillie is dangerous." _I was too distracted by the fact that my allusions were acting up again that I didn't comprehend his words for a few minutes, and I still didn't listen to them. I tried that once, and it left me no good.

"B, please." My voice was just a whisper now. I sounded so small and young, like a frightened second grader. How pathetic!

I felt like screaming when I saw the edges of him start to fade and he slowly lost all being. Now, it was just a memory one that will only hold me down and make me cry for him just like before.

I watched now as Baillie made a peanut butter sandwich, my favorite, and placed it on the table next to me. Then, as quiet as ever, she stalked off. I heard the click when she closed the door to her bedroom.

With a sigh that came from deep within me I sat down again and started taking small bites of my sandwich. Small drops of water fell on my hands and at first I though we had a leak in the ceiling but then I noticed the river of tears streaming down my face.

Nice Izzy. Real mature. First, you get knocked up by a werewolf, then you piss off you best friend, and now you get the pleasure of tell your best friend's fucking soul mate that the bun in your oven is theirs! Izzy, you a real shitty person.

I stopped chastising myself when Baillie was suddenly in the room; she had moved to fast for me to see her.

"I don't want you to tell him." Her voice was monotonous. Her eyes were filled with horrific light that made my finger tips tremble.

I am frozen, I cannot move. My eyes can't look anywhere but at hers.

"W-what?" I stutter like a complete and total idiot.

Baillie gulped and took a step forward, to lean against the counter. Her eyes seemed to be dimming somewhat as she took deep unneeded breaths. "I don't want you to tell Paul that the baby is his." She sounded like a robot. "I want you to tell him that the baby is some other mans' and then we can all just get on with our lives."

I couldn't believe it. I gaped at Baillie, looking like even more of a moron I'm sure, till I finally understood what she was trying to say.

"Baillie, I don't think that'll work." I spoke slowly, choosing my words carefully.

_"Don't provoke her." _

And suddenly, _his_ voice filled my head, blocking out all thought and not leaving any room for comprehension.

What were we talking about?

"Izzy? Are you even listening?" Baillie's voice somehow broke through the wall of around my brain that _his_ voice had built up.

I shook my head trying to clear it. "What?"

Looking at Baillie I could see that she was very near her breaking point.

Taking deep breaths, "Izzy, why wouldn't it work?" Her hands gripped the counters edge and I grew nervous about her breaking it.

"Um… because… when the baby grows up it'll probably turn into a werewolf like Paul."

"Not as long as you steer clear of all vampires." B said it all like it was so obvious.

"Well... won't Paul recognize it?" Why am I trying to think up excuses for tell Paul about his kid?

"It's a possibility but unlikely; you and him don't look anything alike and he would just assume that the baby's father was tan with dark hair and eyes just like him." Again, her silver bell voice made it sound so palpable.

I don't know if it was _his_ voice polluting my mind but I couldn't think up anymore reasons.

Baillie saw this too. "So, we're decided then?"

I couldn't do anything but nod.

"It'll be a boy."

I was taken aback by her words. "Huh?"

"Your baby is a boy. Congratulations." Now, her voice was just plain bitter and a horrible sneer played on her pink lips.

I blinked at her. "How do you know?" I couldn't doubt her words no matter the way she spoke them.

She sighed, "A few weeks ago when I touched you stomach because I was carrying you to your bed. I don't know how I knew I just did. I also knew that the baby was Paul's and that it was a boy. That happened when I touched Paul the first time too, I didn't like see anything it's just like I knew everything about him. It happened with you too." Now, her voice lost its bitterness and held something entirely different … pity maybe?

With a start, I grasped her meaning. She knew everything; where I come from, my birth name, Charlie, Renee, Forks, and … _them_.

"Oh," was all I could make my lips form.

Baillie said nothing she just stared at me. I'm happy to see that she isn't avoiding my eye contact now.

But then her other words entered my mind again. _"It'll be a boy," _she has said.

For some peculiar reason thousands of boy names flashed through my mind.

When I was a young girl I always wanted to name my first son Charlie, but now it would only be too painful for me to do so. I know I hurt him when I left with no goodbye.

"What do ya think of the name John?" The words were out before I could stop them.

I noticed Baillie stiffen and her toned arms flexed. Without an answer she left the kitchen.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I scolded myself.

My eyes flashed back to the clock, Paul should be home in less than 20 minutes. God help me.

_Sorry it's so short.  
Please check out my Poll on my profile to help determine what Izzy will name her baby! PLEASE!  
__Thanks for the reviews everyone and please keep it up I want to know what you all think about how the story's doing. _


	6. Chapter 6

_Okay, I don't know how to make my poll about what Izzy should name her son on my profile so after this chapter I will post the possible names and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE post what you think the name should be from the options I post in a review. PLEASE! I can't decide on a name and if you all don't vote then I'll probably chose some lame generic name or something.  
Also, please review to tell me any ideas you have for the story and your opinion on this chapter.  
I have noticed that I saw PLEASE a lot. Ha ha.  
I do not own Twilight all that is Stephanie Meyers. _

chapter 6.

"Hey, I'm back!" Paul's strong voice boomed all through our apartment. I felt sick.

"Welcome back Paul," Baillie greeted her favorite werewolf and I imagined the kiss I was sure they were performing right now.

With a gulp I stood. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

"Hey Paul." I attempted an expression of nonchalance but I'm not sure if it worked. Oh well, he wasn't in here anyway.

"'Sup Iz." Paul said walking in and grabbing one of the dozen ham sandwiches Baillie had made him.

I smiled, somehow we had all become a family. I've always considered Baillie my sister (although I'm not so sure if the feeling is mutual right now) and through her Paul has become my sometimes-annoying big brother. Very BIG brother, I still get surprised a little whenever I see him stand, he's so freaking tall it's crazy. "It's a wolf thing," he had said with a shrug when Baillie and me asked about it.

Okay, now how should I go about this? Maybe I should just say it like I did with Baillie... but remembering her response... maybe not.

Paul can sense the tension in the air though, his dark eyes keep flashing between me and Baillie like he's watching a tennis match but doesn't understand the language the commentator is speaking.

I can do this. With a deep breath I opened my mouth, but then I smelt the sandwiches and a wave of nausea flooded me. I stood up from my chair so abruptly that I heard it fall back behind me as I raced to the bathroom. I got their just in time as my belly emptied itself into the toilet.

I am vaguely away of someone holding my hair back, the hands are too small to be Paul's; maybe their is a chance to salvage my relationship with Baillie. God I hope so!

"Damn Izzy! You okay?" Paul asked, I imagined his face and laughed a little.

"Yeah, I through-up 'cause I think it's fun." I used all my energy to put as much sarcasm in my voice as I possibly could.

A little more bile came up and I waited a few minutes before I stood up straight again. I wobbled slightly and Paul grabbed my elbow just in case. After a few seconds of making sure I wouldn't fall or vomit, I flushed the toilet and brushed my teeth without a word. I felt their eyes on me and though to myself, Well, at least I can start out by saying I got morning sickness.

After I had rinsed several times, I looked up at them. Baillie didn't look surprised or taken aback at all but Paul seemed a little nervous that I would puke on him, this made me give a slight laugh again.

"Uh ... so," I cleared my throat, "I have morning sickness."

Baillie's eyes widened but I knew it was just 'cause she didn't want Paul to know I told her first; she was feigning surprise.

When Paul didn't say anything I continued. "You see ... I'm ... uh ... p-pregnant." Well, it could have been harder.

Baillie gasped, her hand flew to her throat, he face was a perfect mask of utter shock. Paul looked dumb-founded.

"Um," was all Paul said. I know what he's thinking, his first thoughts were obviously taking him back to our night outside the bar ... the conceiving of my little boy. And for some odd reason, I smiled when I though that ... my little boy.

I raised my shirt over my stomach, Baillie left the room, stalked off to the kitchen as I has assumed she would but Paul just stood their. Staring. I immediately felt self-conscious, my face turning bright red. This might've been a bit much.

"Is it ...?" I heard the unfinished question of his.

I want to tell him. I want to tell him that this is _our_ son. But I can't, if I want any chance of keeping Baillie as my friend, I can't.

"No," the word tasted so wrong on my tongue.

I pretended not to notice his sigh of relief.

"I'm scared." This wasn't a lie at all. I am oh so scared, of oh so much.

Finally Baillie came back, again moving too fast for my feeble human eyes to follow.

I hated the bitter triumph I saw in her eyes, but the kind smile playing on her lips didn't hold the same expression.

"It's okay Izzy. It'll all be okay. Promise." She murmured, her silver bell voice made mine in comparison sound so horse and weak.

Baillie hugged me gently like I was a fragile glass doll, and in a way I feel like a fragile, glass doll.

I am a fragile glass doll, my skin in covered with spider web cracks.

I am oh so breakable.


	7. Chapter 7

Okay everybody, because I can't figure out how to post the link to my poll on my profile, I am going to just post it right here.  
I will post the name options for what Izzy will name her son and you all will (please) post the name you want as a review.

1. Gale  
2. Alex (Alexander)  
3. Constantine  
4. Cole  
5. Nate (Nathaniel)  
6. Corbin  
7. Ajay  
8. Forrest  
9. Clint  
10. Angel  
11. Hunter  
12. Aaron

And now just choose the name you think will best suit Izzy's son and post your vote as a review.  
If no one does this than I'll just do a random drawing or something but I would much rather you all pick, please spread the word; make your friends vote even if they haven't read the story I don't care! :)


	8. Chapter 8

_Alright people I have 1 question right now ... Why does everybody hate Baillie? Damn!  
AGAIN, this is not a Paul Imprints of Bella story. Duh.  
And please remember to review your vote on what Izzy should name her son. The choices are in chapter 7, and please pick from those choices._

chapter 8.

We've moved three times since I told Paul and Baillie about the baby. Right now we're in Colorado driving and by tomorrow afternoon we will be in Wyoming, it would probably be tomorrow morning but me being pregnant I've had to pee like a hundred times a day! Okay, that may be an exaggeration. I'm a little antsy about moving back up North but whatever, it's been awhile since I felt cold.

Baillie is talking to me again. Well, sorta. It's kinda like awkward small talk and I still see the flash of bitterness in her eyes sometimes but I can handle it. I mean hell, I went through dealing with Edwards rejection; I think I can handle this. I can also say his name now. It still hurts but not nearly as bad as in the beginning when I couldn't even think about him without crying, and I thought about him all the time.

Right now though we're taking a rest for the night in this apartment, slightly bigger than our last one. Paul and Baillie have their own room again I got my own too.

It's a full moon tonight and I wonder if werewolves, not like Paul but from the old scary movies, are real too. Ya never know these days.

In my bedroom, I have one small window, right next to my twin sized bed. The window is perfect size for someone as small as me, and I've spent all night looking through it. The moon looks so small high up in the sky, like I could just reach up and grab it and cradle it in my hands.

Another wave of nausea hits me and I run out the door.

I'm bent over the toilet but nothings coming up to my shock.

"Izzy? You need anything?" A silver bell voice rings out, sending shivers up my spine. Baillie.

"Uh ... no thanks. I think it was just a false alarm." I reply, standing up. I still feel kinda woozy but I think I'll be fine.

"Okay." Baillie says slowly and walks back to her room. She looked skeptical but there was still the bitter edge to her voice and an unfathomable emotion in her violet eyes.

"Okay," I murmur to myself and walk out.

I just need some fresh air, I think to myself walking up the stairs that supposed to lead to the roof. I relish in the crisp night air, slightly chilly. I should've grabbed my jacket.

"Okay," I say to myself again taking deep, relaxing breaths.

I sit down in a spot that doesn't have any gum or cigarettes on the floor. I focus on nothing but the way the cool breeze tangles my hair around my face, it tickles, and the way the moon illuminates the night sky, the way twinkle of the stars.

"Izzy," a voice comes from behind me, I recognize the clarity and musical tune to it. And still the bitter edge.

"Baillie," I greet her, trying to match her attitude but not quiet succeeding.

She sighs and sit down next to me. "You've been out here awhile, I brought you jacket." I finally notice the bland, brown jacket I've kept since High School, since Forks.

"Thanks." I shrug into my jacket, embracing it's defense against the cold. Did the temperature drop some?

"Yup." Is all Baillie says in reply.

I feel another crack form in my glass skin at the pain of her bitter, angry tone.

"B ... why are you so pissed off at me?" It's the stupidest way to confront her. I know why she's mad; she's going to think I'm just a fuckin' retard.

Another sigh. "You remember when we were at your motel room, Paul had just left to patrol some. You had just gotten outta the shower after explaining to me about vampires and werewolves and whatnot."

She looks at me, her face crumpled in sadness.

I nod. It's all I can do.

"Okay ... you remember how I asked if you had any tampons and you gave me some 'cause I was _supposed_ to start." Her voice breaks. I nod again and stare at her. She stares back, waiting for me to understand.

"Oh!" I realize why exactly her voice broke on the word "_supposed_".

"Yeah," She takes a deep unnecessary breath, "I never started my damn period after I was Changed. I'm ... infertile." I notice vaguely that her finger tips are shaking and her eyes are shining again. "I'm fucking menopausal."

But I still don't completely get it. She can't have kids ... big deal. She never told me she wanted babies.

I blink at her and she sighs again.

"Izzy, you are having the child of the man I love more than anything. Now, yes even if I could have babies I would still be upset but ..." She sighs again and takes a few deeps breaths, like she's nervous she might break the building. She probably could. "You get to have Pauls' baby. I would do anything for that. You get to watch his son grow and know that half of him is you too. I won't ever get to know that _feeling_." Her fragile voice broke on the last word and a sob racked her slender shoulders.

Oh, there's something she has in common with vampires. She can't have children. Oh.

My thoughts flash back to Rosalie and Esme and tiny Alice and even Victoria enters my mind.

And suddenly I don't seem so breakable. Suddenly Baillie is the one made of glass, and a wide crack just opened up where her heart should be.

"I am sorry for being such a bitch and hurting you. But I am also not sorry at the same time. I'm so ... Ugh! I don't know what I am! I don't understand anything!" Baillie's shaking with sobs and suppressed anger. Her eyes are shining brighter than I've ever seen them. "Izzy ... please try and understand all this better than me. I hate you," daggers cut through me. My glass body is so close to shattering. "But at the same time ... I still love you like a sister."

Tears fill my eyes, half because of the pain from the spinning needles coarsing through my veins and half from the happiness that's sweeling my heart. She still loves me like a sister. Sorta.


	9. Chapter 9

_Okay, as you all have probably noticed I changed it from Bella/Paul to just Bella. If this confused anybody, my bad. I guess. -shrug-  
Remember to give me your opinion on what Izzy should name her son in a review, please choose from the options in chapter 7. Thanks. :-)_

chapter 9.

I'm 20 weeks pregnant now. Joy. My stomach just keeps getting bigger and bigger and I'm starting to run out of baggy shirts and how the hell do you wear jeans when your pregnant? It's ridiculous!

We've made our way more half way through Wyoming, due to Paul's insane driving and Baillie somehow knowing which street has cops on it. Paul drives during the day and Baillie and I take turns driving at night but its usually Baillie; I've just been so tired lately and its not like she's been sleeping anyway.

We don't know exactly where we are going which is something we'll probably have to talk about later.

My mouth decides different though and apparently want to talk about it now. "Where are we going exactly?"

Nobody says anything for a few minutes and my hormones kick in. "Well? Where the fuck are we going?" I half ask half demand.

"Uh ... not sure." Paul says his laid back attitude, usually calming, makes me wanna slap him. Damn hormones.

Baillie fidgets in her passenger seat, next to Paul, and turns around to shoot me an apologetic ... almost completely sincere ... smile. "I think we should try and find the _Cullens_."

I gawk at her. She can't be serious! Can she?

Paul starts shaking, moving the van with him. "What?" His voice is a deadly monotone.

"They have control so we won't need to worry about Izzy or her baby. And Carlisle might be able to help us, you know, figure out what I am." Baillie sounds completely calm. I think I might actually hit her! "Really, Izzy you trust them! And Paul I know you don't and you don't have to but I think they could really help us out."

"No." I say. I don't have to make my voice sound harsh and flat now. "No. I refuse to go see them."

I have too many cracks in my glass doll body for them to just add more. I won't be able to live. Hell, I barely can now!

"I'm with Izzy on this. I don't think its a good idea. No way in hell am I lettin' a fuckin' blood-sucker get anywhere near you, B!" Paul says, the edges of his form shaking, vibrating uncontrollably. He better not break the van.

"It is a good idea though!" Baillie said, trying to persuade us. Or more like persuade Paul. I'm too stubborn for this. "Listen, they've all been around a long time maybe they've seen something like me before. And all we have to do is ask, its not like we're gonna live with them or anything. Please. I really, really wanna figure myself out."

My jaw in a firm, stubborn line. My arms crossed over my chest.

"Izzy, come on. Please. You need this. You need closure. How will you ever be able to move on if you don't confront them about this." I'm surprised because she really does seem genuinely concerned and worried for me.

"No." Is all I say. I won't see them. I won't and they can't make me!

"I still don't like this Baillie." Paul's voice is grim because he knows it could really help his Imprint and he can't say no. And I suppose this could help Baillie, maybe Carlisle will know what she is. But I don't see how it could possibly, in any way, help me and my already shredded heart.

I sigh. I should've known this was coming. My bad luck just keeps gettin' worse and worse.

"Izzy? Please?" Baillie asks and I see Paul looking at me in the rear view mirror.

"No. I c-can't." I stammer through my sadness. I think about saying sorry but decide they would probably see through the lie anyway.

"So what now?" Paul asks, obviously hoping that Baillie will choose not to go after the Cullens without me and since I refuse to go after them at all...

Baillie pouts while she thinks. Her face looks conflicted. She brushes some golden tresses behind her small ear and says,"Izzy, I have to do this. I'm sorry, but if you won't come then I still gotta go."

Paul's back stiffens.

I take a deep breath and let it out with a _huff!_

"Alright, well ... um ... I-I guess you all should drop me off next t-time we stop." I blink away my tears and wrap my arms around my swollen belly. _Looks like it's just you and me, kiddo_, I think to myself and my little son.

"Wait, Izzy are you sure?" Paul asks. Aw, he is such the annoying, protective, big bro type! He runs a hand through his crow black hair.

I smile and turn my face to hide the one tear I couldn't stop from sliding down my flushed cheek.

"Yeah most definitely. You both need to do this and maybe when you all done we'll meet up. Make a date or something." I say with a strangled laugh and I try to hold my smile. I fail.

"There's a motel coming up in a few miles. You want us to drop you off there? I mean, we can take you wherever you want..." Baillie babbles on. I stop listening and try to conjure up some memory of the last time I felt truly peaceful.

_-flashback-_

_Hesitantly, always afraid, even nor, that he would disappear like a mirage, too beautiful to be real ... hesitantly, I reached out one finger and stroked the back of his shimmering hand, where it lay within my reach. I marveled again at the perfect texture, satin smooth, cool as stone. When I looked up again, his eyes were open, watching me. Butterscotch today, lighter, warmer after hunting. His quick smile turned up the corners of his flawless lips._

_"I don't scare you?" he asked playfully, but I could hear the real curiosity in his soft voice._

_"No more than usual."_

_He smiled wider; his teeth flashed in the sun._

_-flashback-_

I stop immediately, shaking my head of the painful memory. But I had to admit. I was truly, utterly, and amazingly peaceful in that past moment. If I could, I would replay time and live in those few minutes over and over again for all eternity.

Looking out the window, I realize that I must've fallen asleep. The sun has completely set and I'm staring at a night sky.

The moon in high up in the sky, we must've passed by my motel. Baillie had said it was just a few miles away before.

"We wanted to let you sleep." Baillie's voice rings in the van. She is driving now, Paul's head is slumped on his shoulder deep in slumber.

"Thanks." I say and I am grateful. I needed the rest.

"There's a hotel coming up in the next town. I've booked you a reservation there for as long as you like. They'll give you the room key at the front desk. We also put all the money in your bag, on top of all you clothes in some envelopes, we only kept enough for gas and food but we'll probably sell the van and just run everywhere we go from now on. Maybe." Baillie's words sound rehearsed, she's probably been thinking about what to say when I woke up. "You could try and get some more sleep. It'll be about 45 minutes." Great, I must look as tired as I feel.

The low hum of our vehicle slowly lullaby's me to a thankfully dreamless sleep as I struggle not to remember_ my _lullaby...

When I wake, the moon is slowly crawling down the sky and we're just now pulling into the parking lot of an enormous hotel. How did she pay for this?

"I, uh, persuaded them to let you stay here for free. But you have to work though. They said they'd have a job picked out for you by the time you arrive. So ... good luck okay." Baillie gives me a smile that seems almost as sincere as her old smiles looked. I force a shy smile back, my heart is pounding in my ears.

"Okay." My voice sounds nervous, even to me.

"Izzy, you'll be fine, just do your job and you won't have to worry about paying for anything! And the suit is big enough for you and the baby. And ... did you ever decide on a name?" I hear the attempt at kindness in her voice but it's ruined from the bitter and sadness in her exotic eyes.

"Um ... no, not yet at least."

Paul moves slightly in his sleep, a soft snore, almost like a lullaby, creeps from his mouth.

"Okay then well. Do you want me to wake Paul so you can say goodbye?" Baillie asks.

I shake my head no. A clean break, that's what we need right now. Just like with my old, former vampire family.

"Do you want me to come in with you? I could help you carry your bags."

"No thanks." I clear my voice and try to swallow the hard rock in my throat. "I'm pretty sure they'll have someone to carry my bags for me anyway."

"Well, okay." We don't say anything for awhile now.

I gulp, and open my door, undoing my seat belt. Grabbing my duffel bag I shuffle to the main entrance.

Don't look back Izzy, I think to myself. Don't look back, it'll only make this that much harder.

Walking through the revolving door, I see the lobby. And it is grand. Two wide red carpeted stair cases with black wood railing, lead up to the first main floor where I can see not one or two but four elevators. Between the two stair case's a lovely ivory sculpture of a woman that reminds me of a Greek god and behind the stair cases are several doors. Away from the stairs, are several plush read chairs, matching the stairs, around coffee tables, and a large fire place with burning flames helping the room appear cozy and warm. Various paintings and awards decorate the ivory wall. The floor is a made of shiny, interlacing stones that swirl around each other gracefully. From the ceiling hangs a great big chandelier of crystals and pearls.

I notice from my peripherals, a desk, also made with some type of black wood and a young woman standing behind it staring at the computer typing rapidly.

With a deep, shaky, breath I walk over to her trying to look confident.

The woman raises her over-cast gray eyes, reminding me of Forks, at my arrival and she moves a strand of auburn hair out of her face.

"Hello, can I help you?" Her voice sounds bored, like she's said the words so many time they haunt her in her sleep.

The overly fancy name-tag clipped to her elegant long-sleeved black shirt tells me her name is Ava.

"Um yes I-I'm supposed to start working here t-tonight." I stammer and keep my eyes down. I am so pathetically shy.

She looks skeptical but then a flash of recognition floods her over-cast eyes.

"Oh! Your Ella Swanson! I remember your face from the picture that other girl showed us." I blink at her. Did Baillie tell them my name was Ella?

"That other girl, did she have violet eyes?" I ask, wanting to be sure they mean me.

"Yeah it was creepy and I think they were glowing too. Did she have contacts or something?" Ava asks, genuinely curious. Thanks God for ignorant humans!

"Yeah. Um so I'm Ella and I need my room key and for someone to carry my bag please." Okay, I only have one large duffel bag but I'm suddenly feeling much better about all this. They don't even know my name ... where's the risk?

"Of course. Right away." Ava calls someone and speaks hastily into the phone.

Suddenly a tall man with a shaved head and glasses comes up behind me and asks for my bag.

"Sure." I say, handing it to him.

"I will escort you to your room Miss Swanson." His voice, like Ava's before, sounds extremely bored.

Ava gives me my room key and I climb the stairs with the bell-hop, who takes them two at a time with his long legs, up to one of the elevators. He pushes the button on the closest one and it opens immediately. The elevator music is the same as all the others, dull and annoying.

"What floor ma'am?" The bell-hop asks, his finger hovering near the key pad.

"Uh ... I'm not sure. Ava didn't tell me and it doesn't say on the key."

He takes my key and looks at it for a minute before pressing down on the top floor button. What in the world?

I blink and ask, "So, what's your name?"

"Jerry, ma'am." Jerry answers. His voice finally shows some emotion other than boredom.

"Jerry, my names Ella. I'll be working here from now on." I try to sound nice, burying my shyness at the bottom pit of my soul.

"I know, everyone here already knows who you are, Miss Swanson. Do you know what your job will be yet?"

"Please, call me Ella. Nope, I have no idea what my job will be." Nervousness seeps in my voice like ink.

Jerry just nods and says nothing more on the matter. Or any other matter that is.

When we finally reach my floor, the top floor, it's a short walk to my suit. I notice that the spaces between doors is surprisingly wide when it comes to my door.

"Enjoy the Royal Suit Ella." Jerry says after dropping my bag down next to the door and with that he's walking away, back to the elevators.

Royal Suit?

"Thanks Jerry!" I call just as the doors are closing.

I bite my lip as I use the key to open my door.

The door the my new home.

_Sorry for the cliff hanger. I know I'm a bitch. :)_  
_I'm a tad bit nervous about the major change in this chapter what with Izzy breaking away from Baillie and Paul so tell my what you think even if its bad their still reviews.  
I chose the name Ella because it's another nick-name for Isabella.  
Again, PLEASE tell me what Izzy (or Ella or Bella whatever) should name her son. There are name options in chapter 7. I know I've repeated this a lot but people I've only gotten a few reviews about what people think her son should be named. _


	10. Chapter 10

chapter 10.

A gentle knock on the door drags my attention away from my gawking at how elegant this place is!

"Ella? It's me Ava from the front desk." I have to remind myself that they only know me by Ella.

I open the door, "Hey Ava."

"Hi." She allows herself in, moving past me and a rush of lavender hits me, it smells awesome! Rude much.

"Er, what can I do for you?" I say closing the door and turning to see her looking all at my room with a disgruntled expression. She looks like an angry kitten.

With a sigh she says, "I just wanted to explain a few things to you." She looks as me now, her eyes are narrowed. "My name is Ava Berkley."

So? "Uh ... okay. And?"

She rolls her over-cast eyes and stares impatiently, "Berkley as in the hotel you are currently working and living in!"

Oh. "Ah, so you own this place?" I feel like a total idiot.

"Not necessarily, my mother does. I am the sole heir, and I get what I want. And I want this hotel to be the best hotel their is. I. Will. Not. Let. You. Ruin. This." Wow, she's real passionate about this place.

Her words finally make sense in my head and my temper flares up. "What? So, you think I'm gonna disgrace this place or something?" I spit the words, acid dripping from everyone.

"Yes, yes I do actually. But mommy doesn't agree. So I've taken it upon myself to make sure you don't do anything stupid or reckless." She matches my vehement tone with her own.

I think I might just smack the bitch! "I think its time you get out. Now." I open my door again and hold it out wide.

Ava mock pretends to think about it and then says in the most aggravating tone I've ever hear, "No."

I take deep breaths but they don't do their job. I still feel like smacking the bitch! "Okay, so how exactly do you plan on making sure I don't do anything stupid?" I try to match her tone but not quiet.

"And reckless. Well, for starters, I mean just look at you! You look like some poor, goth, whore who hasn't showered in three months!" Okay, that was a low blow. "I think I could make you look somewhat presentable." This catches my attention, she wants to change my look. Well, why not? This could be good for me, different look, different name, different job, different home, and a little baby boy on the way.

"Alright, I'll let you change my look." I say, trying to conceal my enthusiasm.

"Oh, I wasn't asking but okay. Well, let's get started then." And she walked outside to wheel in a cart chock full of so many make up and products that claim will make one look beautiful.

"Wow." Is all I can say, this is almost as big as Alice's stash.

"I know, right? Now sit down and I'll start off by dyeing your hair. Hmm, maybe the eye brows too." I gulp but hide my sudden fear. What's the worst that can happen right? The thought makes me gulp again.

I sit down in the leather chair that she brought with her in the great big bathroom of my new home.

The vanity mirror before me shows Izzy Hope Sampson. I touch the mirror, Izzy's hand against mine.

"Goodbye." The word comes easily.

With a sigh I sit back and let Ava work on my hair, massaging it with exotic lotions and conditioners. It feels good, relaxing.

"What do you want you hair to smell like? I personally think lavender smells the best." Ava asks. Oh, just like her hair.

"Uh ... what scents do you have to offer?" I ask awkwardly.

"Apple, strawberry, lavender, coconut, Shea butter, green apple, lemon, roses, freesia, baby's breath, vanilla, honey, soft woods, amber, melon, and peach." She counts them on her fingers, saying them from memory.

In Forks my shampoo always smells like strawberry's when I left I switched to this shampoo that made my hair smell like coconut so I tell her, "Apple," since I have always like that smell.

She says nothing as she runs her fingers through my now wet hair and the distinct scent of apples fill the room. It's so noticeable I close my eyes and imagine I'm in an apple orchard, picking bright red apples, and later I'll bake an apple cobbler with them.

"Ella! Ella, wake up you bum!" Ava all but yell in my ear, shaking my shoulder roughly.

Ah, I fell asleep again. How long was I out? I peak out the window and the sun says it must be around 6 or 7 a.m.

"Good now keep your eye still." I freeze when I see the sharpened eye liner pencil in her capable hand. After she's finished with my eye make up Ava applies some stuff to my skin, I really don't know the name, and some stuff on my lips which makes them feel tingly and cool. She steps back and looks at me.

"Hmm ... there's still something missing." She has her hand under her chin fisted, her brow is furrowed in deep thought. "Ah, that's it!" I watch warily as she hooks up some sort of spray. I chill goes through me ... what in the world? "A spray tan and a change of eye color and you'll be perfect ." Ava opens her mouth but then looks at me curiously. "Let me see your teeth," she demands.

My brow furrowed but I comply, smiling widely.

"Oh good, your teeth are moderately white, not crooked either. That's good. I'll give you some mouth wash that will keep 'em like that. Hmm, are those french tips real?" She says taking my hand in hers examining my finger nails.

"Yep."

"Very, nice. And the clear coat I put on them should strengthen the cuticle too."

"Uh, okay." I have no clue what she's talking about; this is embarrassing.

"Your hair came out nicely though, so did your eye brows." She runs her fingers through some now brown hair with blond streaks hair. I gulp, she dyed my hair brown but it doesn't resemble Bella's brown hair all that much. My hair is lighter especially with the blond streaks.

"Er, t-thanks."

"I think you should be thanking me really, but not yet; I'm not done." Ava turns to her cart of beautifying magic and turns around with to small white cases, the label tell me their contact lenses but the rest is french. "Which color do you want? Blue or hazel?"

"I thought blue contacts didn't work with brown eyes." She's shaking her head no before I even finished the sentence.

"Not these contacts. My eyes are naturally blue." Her voice is almost proud.

"Okay well blue then I guess." I'm curious to see how they'll look.

"Good pick. Here you put them in." Ava turns back to her cart and I gently maneuver the small flexible contacts on my irises after taking out the other ones. The contacts feel strange on my eyes, not bad just different less noticeable and more comfortable.

I move to look in the mirror but Ava's small hand suddenly grabs my shoulder and yanks me back out of my reflections view. "Not till I'm done." She says easily.

I nod once, my eyes drooping slightly. How can I still be tired?

"Okay, strip down. I'm not gonna make you go too dark, especially since this is your first time, so how 'bout we just go for a light tan." She glowers at my expression. "Oh c'mon, you said I could change your look. And do you really wanna be so pale?" No, I've always despised my lack of pigmentation and she has a point; I did say she could "change my look."

I swallow louder than I intended and do as she says.

I'm standing here in only my bra and panties and I cannot express in words how self-conscious I am of my swollen tummy right now. I eye Ava's flat stomach ruefully.

"Don't worry about the stretch marks, I have something that you can use once you have the baby that'll make them disappear before your eyes." I know this is defintely not the first time she's noticed my belly but this is the first time she's brought it up. "So, where's the daddy?"

"He's, uh, occupied." I mumble, staring at the shiny, tiled floor. The floor must be heated, I think noticing the warmth under my bare feet.

"In other words, he's married." I'm about to correct her embarrassing assumption but she isn't that far off base. Sadly.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Alright, well, don't worry about it. My kids dad isn't around either." Ava's words make me look up in surprise. She has a kid? She couldn't be older than 23, maybe 24. "She'll be 2 in November." A starry-eyed look came across her face.

"What's her name?"

"June. I have a picture of her if you wanna see." Ava doesn't give me time to answer, she's already pulled out a small picture of an angelic little baby with wild blond curls and doe-like blue eyes. I notice how June's pretty face doesn't hold many features like her mothers and wonder if Ava's real hair color is blond and if her skin is as fair as the young girls in the picture.

"She's beautiful." I say handing the picture back.

That small voice in the back of my head is at it again, going over baby names, birthday parties, tuition... never ending babble. I do my best to ignore it.

"I know." Ava says, taking the picture and placing it carefully in her black, leather wallet. "Okay lets get started. Remember, don't breath in the fumes."

Ava comes at me with a small sprayer attached to God knows what. I freeze at the sight.

After I'm tan, moisturized, dried, and my make-up has been slightly adjusted to my new skin tone, Ava sits me back down in my seat before the mirror but she's covered it with a dark blue satin blanket of some sort.

Ava is circling me like a lioness looking down on its wounded prey. Suddenly she attaches my eye brows with a pair of tweezers, plucking roughly. I shrink back in my chair and when she's done she steps back to study me even more. Then, she comes at me with a cold lotion that she applies gently under my eyes. This goes on for about 30 or so more minutes, Ava circling me and then abruptly making some last minute adjustment. I watch as the sun climbs up the sky, gracing us with its smile.

Finally, Ava steps back without a studious expression on her face but a triumphant one.

"There, now your ... oh wait!" And she rushes over to her cart again. I sigh, is this ever going to end?

She comes back with sometime small cradled in her hand, I don't see what it is, but it turns out to be earrings. She sticks them both though my ear lobes and I flinch at the pain. I haven't worn earrings in years.

"There, now your perfect." And she pulls down the satin blanket with a flourish.

The creature sitting before me is nothing more than a complete and total stranger. Ella Faith Swanson is staring back at me with two gorgeous Sapphire blue orbs. Her pink, soft lips are parted slightly and she gasps delicately. Her light brown locks falls down straight, but still with volume and body, down to her waist. Her slanted bangs have fallen in her face, covering one Sapphire eye. Her light tan skin looks more soft than the silk blanket. Her ears are decorated with small pearls contrasting with her skin and hair.

I can't help but compare Ella with Izzy. Izzy had been pale, dark haired, and flirtatious. Ella here is tan, brunette but a light color, and elegant. Ella is poised.

Izzy had been a deathly fragile glass doll, already cracked and near breaking. Ella seems more like a life-sized sculpure of a beautiful woman sleeping peacefully in a strong, plexi glass coffin. Ella is protected. Ella is strong.

I take deep breaths, letting the fact that _I _am Ella sink in.

Goodbye, Izzy Hope Sampson.

Hello, Ella Faith Swanson.

_I hope you all like this chapter, I know it doesn't have much excitement or drama it so its kinda boring but it sets it all up for the next chapter. This chapter is mainly about the transition Bella makes, going from Izzy to Ella.  
Remember to give me your opinions please!  
And tell me what you think Ella (Izzy, Bella, whatever) should name her son too. So far, the name Cole is winning. If you don't like that name then hurry up and in a review tell me what name you do think he should have. Thanks.  
I'll try and update soon._


	11. Chapter 11

chapter 11.

I'm on my 30th week pregnant now. Lucky me. I'm just three days, it'll be my 31st week. Yippie.

Well, the morning sickness has subsided so at least I don't have to worry about puking in the middle of work. Oh, my job! It's not exactly wonderful, having to cook in that hot kitchen all day and part of the night but I'm starting to get used to it. It's not horrible at least.

My eyes flash to the Rolex watch on my wrist, I still got 10 minutes before I must go back down there for the dinner courses.

I sigh, changing out of comfy sweats and tee-shirt into some sophisticated black pants and white, button-down, shirt. I would like to wear something less hot, especially since I'm gonna be wearing my white apron and uniform too, but we have a dress code for all employees.

I apply some lotion to my arms and shadowy eye make-up, I still haven't learned all the names for this stuff, some of that fancy lip gloss that makes my lips tingle and I'm off. I don't lock my door since Ginger, the maid who always handles this floor, will be cleaning my room while I work. I'm still not completely used to someone cleaning my suit for me and I help he do it on days when I don't have to work but she insists that it's her job. I really should do something for her though to show my appreciation. Not only does she clean my rooms, well not just mine, but she also has been unconditionally nice to me since I got here and she's helped me control my anger around Ava and her snotty attitude by giving me private yoga classes and whatnot.

The elevator music is so irritating, when I do have the kid I'm definitely gonna start taking the stairs. I'm standing in the surprisingly large elevator with five other people, three men and two women. I recognize them, two of the men and one of the women are staying here and the others are employees. The employee mans name is Mitch, he's a metred' for the restaurant we have and the woman's name is Felicity, she's a waitress. They smile at me shyly. Mitch is usually much more talkative and friendly but he seems to be down in the dumps 'bout something. They're standing as far apart as they can without touching the guests. We stop at floor 15 and the guests leave in silence.

I swear the tension in the elevator is crushing. I keep looking back and forth from Felicity and Mitch, what's going on with them? Mitch has been trying to pluck up the courage to ask Felicity out for awhile, he didn't confide this with me but its pretty obvious how she looks at her. When I first met Felicity I thought she was nice, graceful, but a little plain. Her brown hair is always pulled back in a tight bun, her eyes are a dull mud brown, her eyes a bit too wide to even out with her cheeks and her lips a bit too full throwing her facial features even more off balance. But after a few weeks of watching Mitch watch Felicity I began to notice different things about her, how her skin looked like dark brown silk, how her ears were in perfect proportion with the size and shape of her head, how her lips looked so soft and she smiled no matter what mood she was in. Now, it seemed like Felicity was way out of Mitch's league.

Finally, we made it down to floor two, where the restaurant was. We all walked silently but the click of my short heels bounced off the ivory walls.

I tried to distract myself with looking at some of the paintings. One that really caught my eye was of a snow-white man holding a black woman. And I don't mean black as in African American or anything I mean black as in her entire form, body, hair, face, eyes, were all the same onyx colored black. It was like that with the man too only his form was all white. Around the two lovers was a background of dreary gray. The differences between the two lovers was so intense but still how they held each other!

A sharp rip in my chest brought me back. Ouch. Damn it, just don't think about that shit Ella! Ugh.

The usually short distance to the entrance seems to have been elongated today, like each step took all my energy.

We finally make it and I walk through, weaving in between tables as waiters and waitresses set up the chairs. Ava is here, decorating a flower arrangement. Her long auburn tresses pulled back today, out of her face, in a high pony tail.

I enter the kitchen and grab my apron and uniform off the hook. After I get situated I help clean some of the counters, as usual. Jenna, our head chief, is here today; she's been out sick for the last two days.

"Hey, chief." I greet here, attempting to sound cheery; I'm not sure if it worked.

"Hi Ella. So, you pick out a name yet?" Jenna asks, eyeing my giant stomach.

"Er, no not yet. Every one I think of just sounds too ... I don't know, just not right for him."

"Well, you'll know the name when you see. You should check out some baby names on the Internet, they got big 'ole web sites for this stuff you know." Jenna has two kids of her own, a boy and girl twins. She keeps of picture of them posted on the small bulletin board we have in here, they're both in 4th grade- Jack and Katy.

I just nod and keep drying the counters off now.

All the other chiefs are coming in now and pretty soon orders are flying in and I'm hurrying to finish someones oxtail soup.

The soup is finished and I taste it slightly to make sure its right and the taste is wonderful. I hand it to Felicity to take to table 4. And instantly Jenna tells me to start on a medium rare steak for table 7.

The night carries on like this till we're finally done and closed. It's mine and Sarah's night to help clean up afterwards. We clean in silence.

Once done, I'm about to pass out from exhaustion. I lean lazily against the elevator wall the whole ride up, trying to tune out the annoying music that never ends.

I have to drag myself to the bathroom to shower and moisturize then I just climb into the queen sized bed without even bothering to put on some pajama's and I cradle my womb and hum myself into a dreamless night.

The sun smiles into my room, waking me. Ugh, I must have forgotten to close the curtains last night. Dang.

I'm one of those people who after I wake up, its all but impossible for me to fall back asleep so I just roll out clumsily, dress, put my make-up on, do my hair, yadda yadda. My daily morning routine to make sure Ava is pleased every time she sees me. Ugh. It shouldn't be this difficult to make sure I look pretty.

After the girl in the mirror looks decent enough for Ava not to through a fit I slump over to my phone. It's only 7 in the morning. God help me. I dial the room service number and ask politely for some blue berry pancakes, muffins, and orange juice.

Carrie, the woman who always answerer's the phone for room service, tell me, "Coming right up, Ella." I've gotten better at remembering that people call me Ella but sometimes it still takes me by surprise and I have to remind myself of who I am now.

I hang up the black, plastic phone and walk to what will be my baby's nursery. The room is right across from mine which is perfect. It's supposed to be an office but I've moved the desk and computer into my room and I've already finished painting the cozy room a light sky blue and I've ordered a cradle and several other necessary items. Ava is constantly squawking at me nowadays to just let her hire some people to decorate the room but I keep on refusing her. I wanna do this.

I went to see the Doctor yesterday, he said the baby was developing just fine and that I only have seven to ten more weeks ahead of me. I can't wait till tiny little ... okay, I still haven't decided on a name but I want to see him first.

I've had a rug placed on top of the hard mahogany floors, I sit down on it carefully. One hand is resting on top of my giant belly and the other on the bottom.

I've been trying really hard to only think positive thoughts about the baby and me; like how healthy this could be for me, a reason to live, a distraction of sorts that doesn't involve me sleeping around and how wonderful it will be to take care of someone other than myself. It'll feel good to be needed. Feel good to be wanted.

I look around my baby's nursery and try to imagine watching him growing here. And suddenly, I can see him just as clear as day. A small, angel-faced boy with dark skin and hair standing before me. An ear-to-ear smile stretched across his young face and I recognize it immediately from his absent father. Then the sun shine through the window, and with the shadows, the boy disappears.

I rub my tummy, wishing the boy would reappear so I could get a better look. He was so adorable.

A gentle rap-rap on the door makes me remember breakfast and notice the hunger emanating from both me and my baby.

"Thanks Dustin." I close the door behind my fellow coworker as he leaves after placing all my food on the table along with a single fake rose in a slim, crystal vase. The rose isn't cutesy of the hotel, its from Dustin. As usual. I swear, you'd think after the first dozen times of me turning him down and him constantly asking me to lunch and leaving me roses (never real ones though which kinda bugs me) he would get a clue and move on. He needs to move on to Shawnee, I happen to know that she definitely likes him.

I eat my breakfast slowly, contimplating what to do today.

I really don't have anything to do. The nursery won't be finished till the cradle and all the other stuff I ordered gets here. I only cook for dinner so I have the whole day not having to work at all. This would normally be something someone sane would be happy about but it leaves me too much time to think. Sometimes, I would ask Felicity or Shawnee or Anne or Sarah or Denise or Mitch or Greg or Kevin or any of my other new coworker friends if they wanted to go out and do something but today I just sorta feel like staying in. Which is new, for me at least.

Hmm, I think to myself, I never did get to ask Felicity what was going on between her and Mitch..., I continue this train of thought as I reach for the phone again and dial her number.

"Yes?" Felicity's voice answers.

"Hey it's me." I know she'll recognize my voice; we talk on the phone a lot.

"Hey what's up?"

"Nothing much just hanging out. So, what was going on with you and Mitch today? In the elevator you two looked like you were trying to escape from each other or something." I explain, curiousity dripping from my voice.

There's a pause and then she says in a grim voice, "Uh ... well, he asked me if I would like to go see a movie with him. And I said no. And then he asked me about dinner together and again I said no. And then he told me he would really, really like me to give him a chance but I just ... don't like him like that."

"Ah, well, I'm sure he'll be fine." I try to sound comforting but words sound false, even to me.

Felicity sighs deeply into the phone. "I sure hope so." There's a tone in her voice that gives me an idea.

"Felicity, is the reason you said no to Mitch because you already like someone else?"

A long pause.

"Yes." She whispers the word, my ears strain to catch it.

"Who?" I try not to sound like a gossip crazed high school girl (Jessica instantly comes to mind) but I am truly curious.

"Uh ... well ... Bobby." Okay, I did not see that coming.

Bobby is pretty much the opposite of Felicity. He's a hot-head bad boy for crying out loud!

Felicity starts to babbling when I don't say anything but I cut her off. "Felicity that's great!" I make my best attempt to sound enthusiastic. Honestly, Bobby scares me a little.

"Really?"

"Totally."

"Aw, thanks Ell! Well, I gotta go. My brother is dropping off my niece and I promised I'd teach her how to ride a bike. Bye!"

"'Kay, bye." And then its just me and the dial tone.

I sigh, hanging up and start nibbling on a muffin I hadn't devoured feeling a kick from the baby. He's been doing that a lot lately, he needs more room.

Before I've even realized it, my muffin is gone. Dang, I'm a pig.

With another sigh that comes deep from within my tire soul, I pull the curtains together roughly and go back to climb in my bed with a big ol' yawn. The doctor said I needed to get as much rest as possible. My bedroom is the definition of "Master Bedroom." I love it, it's inviting queen sized bed is the most comfortable thing I've ever felt. The fire place is warm and big, its bronze stone lovely and the giant TV hanging just above it is so cool, I don't think I've ever watched so much television. The curtains are a thick brown that blocks the sun wonderfully, it's just as good as night time, I also pull them together.

I climb under my bed sheets and force myself to think only about my baby and his very expected arrival date.

When I wake the sudden remembrance of my job forces me up to a sitting position and my eyes fix on the antique clock.

I have to be in the kitchen in less than 7 minutes. Shit.

My feet think faster than my brain and I'm already in my walk-in closet, pulling on the first things my hands grab. I do a double check over my clothes as I rush into the bathroom and, as quickly as possible, apply a variety of make-up to my face that Ava bought me a day after she changed my "look" transforming me into Ella.

I shoved my glossy hair back into a messy bun that I was sure Ava would grimace at and clumsily tried to put on my sandals as I ran out the door and to the elevator which, thankfully, was just closing. I recognized a few guests but there weren't any of my coworkers in. I got my hand between the closing door just in time, receiving a few disgruntled looks from the rich guests- you had to be rich to stay at this hotel. Either that or you had to have a very persuasive and somewhat bitter friend with mesmerizing violet eyes.

I droned out the elevator music with the tapping of my foot impatiently. I thought one of the guests would have asked me to stop, in fact one woman with gold blond hair looked like she was about to but I scowled at her which is obviously something she wasn't used to. When the door opened to my floor I shoved three guests outta my way and raced to the Entrance. Hopefully Ava wouldn't find out about that.

"Ella! There you are!" I cringed as Ava's shrill voice echoed through the wide corridor. Damn!

I looked up to see Ava stomping towards me from the enormous room we use for weddings. She looked flustered, her auburn hair was in a messy bun just like mine. I was surprised by this, Ava always looked like a model. The _click click _of her heels bounced off the walls.

She grabbed my wrist roughly and began dragging me to the wedding room. He manicured nails dug into my skin.

"Ouch! Ava what the hells going on?" I ask trying in vain to wrench my wrist from her surprisingly strong grasp.

She didn't answer. I stopped struggling and her nails did leave me skin but she never let go of my wrist.

There must be some pretty fancy people here today, I think as I take in the grand wedding room which is obviously being put to use at this very moment. Way, way down the white carpet was a man and woman grinning at each other. Red rose petalswere scattered all over the white carpet where the bride has recently walked down. Every red seat was filled with guests and they all watched the wedding. The pastor droned on about how love and marriage corresponded together and how love was blind and selfless. Razor blades dragged along my skin and I tried to tune the old man out.

I noticed how Ava's foot steps became noticeably quieter and she moved slowly, more cautiously.

"Ava, what is going on? I gotta go to work!" I whispered furiously in her ear.

"Macy," I recognize the name of the usual wedding singer, "is sick with the flu, your gonna have to sing." And that's when I noticed exactly where we were walking. The raised platform, the microphone, the lights. Oh God!

A sick feeling nestled itself in my stomach and my face turned beat red. "No! Ava, no, I can't! I'm a horrible singer!" I was whispering louder now and I wondered vaguely if any of the guests could hear me.

"No, Ella, you're not. I've heard you sing in the shower whenever I snoop around your room so don't worry you'll do great!" How could she sound so optimistic?

"I ca- wait! What do you mean? Do you really snoop around my room?" My face heats up at the very thought.

"Ella! That it so not the point here! You can sing okay just this time make sure its a love song okay?" She pushed me up the stairs where I saw three people standing with instruments. Electric guitars, a grand piano, and drums were on the platform; people stood behind them tinkering and tuning the instruments. "Okay, Ella this is your band. The couple are really into rock music and stuff so maybe if you could think of something like that? Okay!" Suddenly Ava's firm grip leaves my arm and she's jogging to the Exit. Are you fucking kidding me?

"Hi, I'm Lisa." Says one woman with dark eyeliner and a sleeve of tattoos on her left arm. She smiles kindly and reaches over the grand piano to shake my hand.

"H-hey, I'm ... Ella." I force the words around the lump in my throat and the quick gasps I keep sucking in.

"Ella, I'm Joey." One man says taking my hand, his black guitar resting against his chest.

"Corey." The other man says, his white guitar resting on a stool. He runs a hand through his black hair but doesn't take my hand.

"I'm Joy." A platinum blond muttered, not meeting my eyes, leaving over her drum set to shake my hand, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"Hi." I murmur taking deep breaths now.

"You ever sing in front of a crowd before?" Lisa says bravely, pulling her black curls into a pony tail at the nap of her neck allowing me to see her face clearly. Lisa has dark skin, russet almost with a red undertone like Paul's had, her eyes are a pretty dark green, her lips are a perfect double curve, and her high cheekbones are in perfect proportion with the rest of her exotic face.

"No." Keep it short Ella, don't embarrass yourself by stuttering.

She nods understanding. "Well, don't worry. You'lldo fine and I'll be here to back you up." Well, why can't you sing then? "Here's the first some they want us to play, it's a slow song and this will be their first dance as a married couple. Then we're gonna pick it up with this song here," Lisa shows me the lyrics and rhythm to the second song and continues showing me the songs in order that we'll perform them. I keep taking deep breaths.

I spend the rest of the time going over the songs with the band and memorizing the lyrics, nervousness making a home for itself in the pit of my gut right next to my baby.

It's time to start all too soon.

Lise gently shoves me behind the mic and, gratefully, not all eyes are on me they're on the married couple about to start the dance.

Lisa plays her piano beautifully, her fingers dancing on the keys like ballerina's and I force away the memory of Edwards playing. Hiding the pain on my face I open my mouth, take another deep breath, and the lyrics pour out from me. I keep my eyes fixated on a bouquet of red tulips across the room. My finger tips are shaking so I grip the mic.

The slow song floats around the room swirling about the dancing pairs and mingling with their own voices as they whisper and murmur to each other.

The piano slowly drifts into the ending and my voice goes with it.

"Ella." Joey hisses from my right. "That was awesome!" He gives me a thumb up and I smile, my face turning red under the spray tan. And suddenly we are a rock band in a concert, not a classic wedding.

Corey's fingers move rapidly on the skinny strings of his guitar, Joy's pale blond hair shimmers and flips as she bangs on her dums. Then Joey comes in with his own riffs and I hear my cue to sing.

_-I took these lyrics from Skillet, one of my favorite bands. I truly suck at writing lyrics so I'm borrowing these. I take no cedit for this awesome song, I did not write it.-_

"Despite the lies that you're making  
Your love is mine for the taking  
My love is just waiting  
To turn your tears to roses

"Despite the lies that you're making  
Your love is mine for the taking  
My love is just waiting  
To turn your tears to roses

"I will be the one that's gonna hold you  
I will be the one that you run to  
My love is a burning, consuming fire

"No, you'll never be alone  
When darkness comes  
I'll light the night with stars  
Hear my whispers in the dark

"No, you'll never be alone  
When darkness comes  
You know I'm never far  
Hear my whispers in the dark

"Whispers in the dark

"You feel so lonely and ragged  
You lay here broken and naked  
My love is just waiting  
To clothe you in crimson roses

"I will be the one that's gonna find you  
I will be the one that's gonna guide you  
My love is a burning, consuming fire

"No, you'll never be alone  
When darkness comes  
I'll light the night with stars  
Hear my whispers in the dark

"No, you'll never be alone  
When darkness comes  
You know I'm never far  
Hear the whispers in the dark

"No, you'll never be alone  
When darkness comes  
I'll light the night with stars  
Hear my whispers in the dark

"No, you'll never be alone  
When darkness comes  
You know I'm never far  
Hear the whispers in the dark

Whispers in the dark  
Whispers in the dark  
Whispers in the dark"

_Sorry it took so long to finish this chapter people! I've been working on some other projects too though plus my swimming team plus babysitting plus everything else I've been kinda busy. Thanks and please please please please please please please REVIEW! And thnkx to _**ikidikid**_ for all the reviews and support. :)_


	12. Chapter 12

chapter 12.

My last few weeks here have been surprisingly interesting.

I work two jobs now, cooking in the restaurant at dinner time and the wedding singer. I'm on maternity leave right now though.

And guess what... I get to have my baby today. Or at least my water should break today. It's been exactly 40 weeks and now I just have to wait. Ava's been amazing in her own annoyingly rude way of doing everything, she's been a really big help. Thanks to her I get to have my son in the hotel. Yes her step brother is a doctor and he's going to do the whole business himself. He just left actually; he's been checking up on me routinely all day.

"Ella?" Ava's voice sounds from the living room. Does she ever knock?

"In here!" I yell back from the kitchen, slicing up a tomato for my sandwich.

"Hey, so how're you feeling?"

I shrug and reply," fit as a fiddle."

I look up just in time to see her roll her eyes at me.

"Thought of a name yet?"

"Yes, I think so. Cole. What'd you think?" I watch her expression now trying to decipher her thoughts. But, as I've come to realize, Ava is master of the poker face.

She shrugs. "Sounds good," she leans against the granite counter tops, "Cole Swanson. Yeah, I like it."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Why should I give a shit weather Ava approves of my son's name or not?

"What about a middle name?" Her question freezes me over just as I'm about to take the first bite of my sandwich. I hadn't even thought about a middle name.

"Um..." is all I can think to say.

Ava rolls her eyes again and sighs dramatically. "Oh come on Ella! Do you want me to pick one?" She rests her green eyes on me and places her hands on her perfectly proportioned hips.

"Yes, please." I squeak.

Ava sighs a big huff of air and sits down at my table. "Hmm..." She drums her finger nails against the polished wood and take a long pause to think so I sit down and start in on my sandwich.

I'm putting the plate in the dishwasher when finally Ava says, "Fletcher."

"Huh?" I ask not remembering what it was she was pondering over.

"Your son's middle name is Fletcher. Cole Fletcher Swanson. I like it." She says the last part defensively, taking my silence as a bad this. Frankly, I couldn't care less what my sons name was just as long as it didn't remind me of my past and he was healthy.

"I like it too. It's ... distinguished." I say and the angry look in her eyes vanishes immediately, now they rake over my outfit. Usually I make an effort to satisfy her need that every employee must be fashionable and handsome but today I was just way too tired to even think about it. I can imagine her distaste at my messy hair bun, my black sweats, my baggy white tee shirt that had a mustard stain on it. Yes I looked like crap of I also have a baby ready to pop out any second. I think I should be allowed at least one day to look horrible.

"Well, I can't say you look totally hideous." Ava says, her voice snooty. "At least your new spray tan looks nice."

Ava's been gradually darkening my spray tans each time. Now my skin looks tan and sun-browned and glowing. She darkened my hair also making it a dark brown, almost black.

"Thanks." I mutter sarcastically and shrug off her words. "Well, bye."

"What?"

"I want to take a nap. So... bye."

"Oh, well then. See you later Ella. Bye Cole!" Ava closes the door just after she yells to me the last sentence.

Unconsciously my hand goes to my giant stomach.

I trudge into the mast bedroom and pretty much collapse on my bed cooing my baby's name over and over again. I climb under the covers and pray silently for no dreams.

~S~

I wake to the pain stabbing me in my lower abdomen, finding myself in the sitting position drenched in sweat.

"Argh," I groan, and notice that my legs feel oddly wet... did I wet the bed?

I shake my head as realization sets in. Cole Fletcher Swanson was coming now. And fast.

My eyes squeeze shut.

A pain filled shriek rips its way up my throat as more knives push through my stomach.

"Ella!" I vaguely recognize Ava's step-brother, Dr. Stabler's voice.

I open my eyes and the next scream isn't filled with the agony happening in my belly. A pair of the most beautiful topaz eyes glared back at me.

The only hallucinations I've had since I came to the hotel have all been dreams and the feeling of eyes on my back. Nothing more. Thankfully.

But now it's as if everything I have missed is coming at me now at full force. The next scream that erupts from me is a siren of torture, it's a sound a wounded animal would make. And that's what I am. Wounded. Bleeding. Hurt. And very near shattering.

I'm vaguely aware of being moved but I can't take my eyes off_ Edward _to look around. He is everywhere. His breath is my air. His cold skin is all I touch. His chiseled face is all I see. There is nothing but him. I know nothing but him.

"Ella!" The voice is dim and from far away. I ignore it.

"Ella!" Leave me alone.

"ELLA!" This time the sound is not far away but right next to me, in my ear. I flinch.

"What?" I ask, my eyes still fixated on _his_ golden ones.

"I need you to push Ella! Now, push!" Push? Push what? But after a few more second of agony I understand the voices meaning and push.

I scream.

"_Again_." I know the voice this time. I would know this voice anywhere. "_Bella, push. Don't give up. Push._" Edward still sounds angry.

His voice dangles in the air around me. Intoxicating.

Another scream. Mine, obviously, but I do what says.

His perfect face is so close to mine. If I could just conjure up the energy I would lean forward, ever so slightly, and then our noses would touch. Just one touch. That's all I want. Is that really so selfish?

More yelling at me, I barely discern the words to find that they want me to push some more and take quick, deep breaths. I do. Maybe if I do what they tell me to they'll shut up. But I don't even have the energy to lean forward. How am I supposed to push?

I scream again, a strangled sound of frustration, angry, pain and rejoice. I can't help the happiness at the sight of Edwards face. If I could... I'm not sure if I would change how I feel for him. That's certainly not a good thing but I don't really care right now; I have more important matters to worry about.

Just as I'm thinking that maybe I'll be stuck like this forever. Staring at _his_ face in a world of agony and love.

But then the crying of a newborn destroys everything. Edwards face fades away taking his scent and voice with it. The pain in my body starts to die out. My son is born. Paul's son is born.

"G-give him to me," I gasp out. My breath has become ragged. Or maybe its always been like that, I wouldn't have noticed.

Cole Fletcher Swanson is placed in my arms and he is beautiful. Dr. Stabler cleaned him up real quick. His head is covered in ink black locks. His eyes are wide open, staring up at me. I stare back.

"Baby Cole. I'm your momma. Welcome to the world honey." The words are a horrible whisper, barely understandable but I think Cole did get what I was saying.

He raised a tiny, dimpled hand and cupped my chin, a wide grin forming on his plump lips. They say baby's don't smile when they first born, that it's something they have to learn by watching others do this like walking and talking, but my baby smiled not five minutes after he was born. Yes, my baby Cole smiled.


End file.
